CANNES, _October 19, 1863_.
DEAR FRIEND: I have been here a week, resting in the desert from the
fatigues of the court. The weather is magnificent. I see in the paper
that your Loire is overflowing its banks; from which I conclude that you
are having frightful storms, and I pity you from the bottom of my heart.
I shall enjoy Provence but a fortnight longer, as I must return for the
opening of the session. I am not sanguine over it. The death of M.
Billault makes it an unpropitious beginning. For some time past I have
talked assiduously, preached and persuaded M. Thiers to preach likewise,
but I do not know what will be the result. It seems to me that we are
drawing nearer and nearer our former parliamentary course, and that we
are about to repeat once more the cycle of the same mistakes, and
perhaps the same catastrophes. See, in addition, the strenuous efforts
on the part of the clericals to make themselves detested, and to stretch
the cord until it snaps. All this is enough to make one pessimistic
concerning the future.
You have heard that on our journey here we were derailed near Saint
Chamas. I was not at all affected, not even by fear, for I did not
realise the danger until it was past. The only persons injured were the
mail-clerks, who were thrown in a heap among their tables and chests.
They came out of it with severe bruises, but no broken limbs.
Have you read the charge of the Bishop of Tulle, who orders all the
pious ones of his diocese to recite _Aves_ in honour of M. Renan, or,
rather, to prevent the devil from carrying off everybody, because of
this same M. Renan’s book?
Since you are reading the letters of Cicero, you must see that in his
age people had more wit than in ours. I am overwhelmed with shame every
time I think of our nineteenth century, which I find in every respect so
inferior to its predecessors.
I believe I made you read the _Lettres de la Duchesse de Choiseul_. I
wish some one to-day would try to publish those of our most beautiful
society woman. I leave you to go fishing, or, rather, to see other
people fish, for I have never succeeded in landing a fish. The best part
of it is that on the sea-shore they make an excellent soup for those
who like oil and garlic. I suppose you are among this class.
Shall I find you in Paris early in November? I am expecting to be able
to remain there all the month, except a few days, perhaps, at Compiègne,
if my sovereign invites me there for his fête-day. Good-bye, dear
friend.